Nightingale
by the female apophis
Summary: An angel comes to the SGC during the aftermath of a huge battle. Plz R&R.


Nightingale

By: the female apophis

A/N: I don't know what possessed me to write this, but I did. Hope you guys like it. Plz R&R peeps.

Archive: Sure, just make sure you ask me first

Disclaimer: Define owns...

Pairings: I hope you can figure that one out on your own.

Rating: uh...it should be listed on the page in which you linked to this...so...yeah.

Songs: One may happen to appear...if you see one, then...you see one. It may be here, and then again it may not.

Summary: An angel comes to the SGC during the aftermath of a huge battle.

Spoilers: Please, please, let me know if you see one.

Other stuff: Yeah, you may see some other stuff that isn't Stargate SG-1 related, but don't worry. It was put into the story for a purpose.

********************

There is so much destruction here. Bodies lay scattered around me, some begging to be helped; others I touch and their souls are free. I help those I can ascend. Some choose not to. It is their decision.

Who am I, you ask? I am an angel. An angel of death, one that was brought here centuries ago to stop the pain and suffering of your kind. You may call me the grim-reaper, others call me the black angel, or dark angel, angel of darkness, I have many names. I simply like to be called death. It is simple and covers everything.

I must help everything, even plants, to die. It is a job that I do not like, but must do. If we did not, things that were dead would be forever trapped on this Earth for all eternity. It is a death that no one wants; one nothing wants.

I come to a woman in pain. She is fair of skin and hair. Her eyes are the bluest I have ever seen. She is close to her time I fear. But I have the choice of who lives and who dies. I touch her heated brow and look into her memories.

The brain is a marvelous thing. You can see events that have happened, but it also allows you to see things yet to come. Your scientists and doctors do not realize it yet; yet you do have the memories of events yet to happen. Sometimes you call them 'dreams', a term that suits the situation perfectly.

I look into her mind and see her future clearly. If I allow her to live, she will live a long and fruitful life. I can also see a tall man, one with graying hair. She has much respect and love for this man. I sense that they should be together. I give her body the boost it needs to live again.

A doctor, the woman's best friend, comes to kneel beside the woman, and begins issuing orders to keep the woman alive. I go off to help others.

I come to kneel beside a man. I recognize him from the woman's 'dreams' and also grant him life. He was not as close to death as the woman was, but I also sensed a desire to live that only comes from one very close to death.

After helping many more, I make my exit.

I reach the others, and I sense their anger. They did not want me to help. I do not care. They cannot harm me. I must return to your planet again soon and repeat the process.

I know why you call me the angel of darkness. I dress in black, a color that suits me fine. A simple flowing shirt with matching skirt. I wear no shoes on my feet, but a simple chain adorns my ankle. My hair is long, and dark in color. My eyes are as well. A simple chain rests around my neck.

I am the angel of darkness, death, black angel, whatever you wish to call me.

The one called 'Siler' stands beside me watching as I help those who he calls his friends. I will soon teach him what was taught to me, and then we can help those souls seeking eternal peace.

It is time for me to depart from your presence. I shall return soon. One day I shall come to claim you so be prepared. Do not fear me, I only wish to help you. That is all.

~fin~

Okay, I know this is a bit dark, but I was in a rather mysterious mood when I wrote this. Hope you liked it none-the-less. Please review now.

"There are worse things in life than death. Have you ever spent the evening with an insurance salesman?"-Woody Allen


End file.
